Harry Potter: The Metamorph Files
by Zinnyzin
Summary: James and Lily Potter discover Harrys strange new ability shortly before their demise and take steps to assure he doesn't lose himself in them. See how it affects his adventures and studies here in "Harry Potter: The Metamorph Files". HopefullynottooOOC!Characters, HP/NT pairing. (Rated M for future language)
1. Prologue

I know nothing relating to the Harry Potter Series but the idea for this fanfiction, even if it is slightly unoriginal.

Since I was not born before '90, I apologize for any incorrect technologies and the like. At most, I'll get /some/ things right. Just not a lot.

Anyways, this'll be mostly canon for a bit with some changes here and there and then things'll start to change.

* * *

 **Harry Potter: The Metamorph Files**

 **Prologue (Chapter 0)**

October 23, 1981

Life was good for one James Potter… Well, not so much. He, his wife and his firstborn had hidden themselves under a _Fidelius_ to hide from a would-be emperor. Still, things could be worse. His best friend, Sirius Black, was the obvious choice for the secret keeper so he hopped from place to place to outrun the Death Eaters to try to keep them thinking that. In fact, Peter Pettigrew held the secret. And, while he wasn't the best person for the job, James thought he would do the job no matter what.

He smiled to himself as he walked behind his wife to sneak a kiss before he was interrupted by the cry of his child. His wife, still not knowing he was behind her, called out to him, "James! Can you go check on Harry? I'm still preparing dinner. Merlin knows what happened last time you tried…" He winced at the call for him and then shuddered, knowing his wife would never let the incident go. One small explosion and she held a grudge. He let out a silent huff and quickly kissed the back of her neck before he ran upstairs, to check on Harry.

He pulled his son out of the crib and slowly began to rock him, gently cooing and shushing his year old son, trying to calm him. While it did help, the boy was still crying, so he tried making funny faces and noises. When that did work, he carried little Harry over to the rocking chair in his room and pulled over the photo album that, for whichever strange reason, always calmed him. He talked Harry through the pictures as always, pointing to each person and telling him who they were.

It was several minutes before Harry stopped crying, though he stopped wailing as soon as he sat in the chair. Harry seemed transfixed on the pictures as always, eventually joining his father in saying the names of his friends. It was then James noticed something out of the corner of his eye, particularly when he pointed at "Dum'a'deer". Harry's jet-black hair wasn't black… it was silver.

He stared at his son, thinking it was a prank Lily pulled on him. When Harry pointed to "Unka' Moo-y", he knew that, even though Lily graduated at the top of her classes, or just there about, she wouldn't have been able to do it. She couldn't make him grow a goatee, after all.

With a hoarse call, he yelled for Lily, trying to keep the worry out of his voice. It clearly didn't work. Once she had heard his call, she dropped everything and made her way upstairs. It had been years since he had pulled a serious prank and she knew he wouldn't with Voldemort still out there, looking for them.

Once she entered the room, she saw his worried face and looked down to Harry… or what looked to be a young Remus Lupin, still with a goatee. If she was anyone but herself, she would've fainted. She looked to James with worry and saw the same on his face. She rushed over to Harry, pulling him out of James' arms to rock him slowly, one hand roaming over his body to check on him. Harry, having no idea what was going on, subconsciously turned back into his normal self, quickly calming a nervous Lily and James.

Lily turned to James, worry still on her face and in her voice, "Owl Dumbledore." She glared daggers, "Now."

James, knowing when to listen, rushed to do just that, sitting at his desk and taking up his quill with a shaky hand and doing as he was told.

 _ **Dear "Dum'a'deer",**_

 _ **If it is convenient to you, I ask you to open your Floo for Flower, Prongslet and I at your office in Hogwarts. Prongslet has shown some unusual signs Flower and myself are concerned over what it might be.**_

 _ **I would so enjoy explaining it but it is most peculiar and I believe you should see it for yourself.**_

 _ **Kindly send your answer by way of Padfoot. Hoping to see you before All Hallow's Eve.**_

 _ **I am, most sincerely,**_

 _ **Prongs**_

 _ **P.S. Prongslet enjoys the the scale Quidditch set you sent for his birthday, even if you did send the Chudley Cannons.**_

He had, while still jittery, calmed considerably while writing the letter. He quickly folded it up and slid it into the envelope and sealed it with wax. He left off the usual stamp of House Potter and used the one Sirius and Remus made for the Marauders, a four-sectioned stamp with antlers, a full moon, a grims paw print and bucked teeth. It, for all intents and purposes, worked to identify him as who he was without letting the Death Eaters or Voldemort know.

He moved to his owl and gave it the provided letter, tying it to its leg so it wouldn't lose it. The owl, knowing exactly what to do, flew off into the evening, determined to deliver the letter.

* * *

October 30, 1981

Sirius contacted James and Lily a couple days after James originally sent the letter, letting them know Dumbledore was exceedingly busy with his work as Supreme Mugwump and Headmaster but was able to push back an 'International Confederation of Wizards', or ICW meeting in order to meet them.

The couple floo'd into Dumbledores office, being warmly greeted by the newly centennial[1] man. After giving him a nice pair of hand-knitted woolen socks, they got down to business.

James cleared his throat, looking nervous about the whole thing, "Thank you for seeing us, Headmaster."

Albus could only chuckle and wave it of, "Think nothing of it, James. And please, call me Albus. I am no longer your headmaster." He gave a polite smile to the two of them, his eyes twinkling as they always did.

Lily rocked back and forth, both nervous and trying to keep Harry asleep. The boy could sleep through a train plowing through the house and yet woke up if she and James were creeping down the hall. How he slept through flooing, though, she'd never know. She cleared her throat and looked to Dumbledore, "But truly, Albus, thank you."

He nodded to her, "Now, if you would not mind showing me what is wrong with young Harry."

She nodded and gentle woke Harry, "Give him a minute to wake up."

Of course, being a bit over a year old, Harry took a while to wake, having been enjoying his nap. He yawned sleepily and rubbed one of his eyes, looking around to see why he was woken up. Of course, seeing "Dum'a'deer" got him excited and woke him up pretty quickly. It wasn't long after that Dumbledore found out what had his parents worried, Harry's hair turning grey and growing a small beard to try to match his.

Dumbledore smirked and raised an eyebrow, watching the child do his thing, "Yes, I see. How peculiar indeed." He looked over to James, "Fortunate you wrote me, James. I wrote an article back around nineteen thirty or about this. There is nothing wrong with young Harry. He is simply a metamorphmagus."

The couple calmed, glad to know it wasn't a disease or something of the sort. Albus cleared his throat, "Yes, well… There is a small matter concerning metamorphmagi." The two turned their heads to Albus, paying close attention to what he said, "Without a certain sense-of-self, they have the ability to… forget what they originally appear to be. The chance is incredibly slim, however, but there is still a chance."

He let them think it through before continuing, "I know of a way to… lets say seal the ability. It would give him a chance to establish his sense-of-self." He cleared his throat, "Of course, it would seal a large portion of his magical power as well. He would not be a squib, however. He would still have access to a small portion of his power and the strain it would cause his power to grow, while making him nearly perpetually tired. I admit it is a risk… but, when he joins Hogwarts, I'd be willing to release the seal to let him flourish."

James looked to Dumbledore, "If you would let us talk a moment." When Dumbledore nodded, he and Lily moved to the entryway to his office, quietly discussing it between themselves. Harry was still nestled in Lily's arms, his appearance turning back to what it should be.

It took them a good while, tears being shed in the process, but they had come to an agreement. It would be done. Dumbledore nodded and waved his wand over Harry once the three had returned to his desk, sealing the magic that powered Harry's ability, as well as most his other magic.

The three stayed the night in the Hogwarts infirmary, returning home the next day after making sure Harry was otherwise unaffected by the seal on his powers. Unfortunately, that was their last night together as a family. Peter had betrayed them and Voldemort had broken in, killing James and Lily and attempting to kill Harry before his magic backlashed and killed him, not before splitting a piece of his soul and attaching it to the young metamorph, sealing his fate as a horcrux.

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[1] In this case, it mean he's 100 years old. The literal definition is 'relating to a hundredth anniversary' or 'a hundredth anniversary'.

I'll be going for 'Albus' when he talks and 'Dumbledore' for most other things.

I refuse to accept Harry named his kids so shittily. 'James' after his father is fine, as is 'Sirius' after his godfather, though not for a middle name. I can even handle 'Albus' for one of their middle names… but I completely refuse to accept he named one of his kids 'Albus Severus'. Albus is a terrible name in general and Severus is a completely asshat except for, like, three seconds in 'the Deathly Hallows'. He may have been a spy, but he was completely and utterly a douche.

So I say his sons names are 'James Albus (or Alastor) Potter', 'Sirius Remus Potter' and his daughter… well, her name is fine as it. I have no issues with 'Lily Luna Potter'.. Though 'Lily Nymphadora Potter' would work fine too.


	2. Chapter 1

I know nothing relating to the Harry Potter Series but the idea for this fanfiction, even if it is slightly unoriginal.

Since I was not born before '90, I apologize for any incorrect technologies and the like. At most, I'll get /some/ things right. Just not a lot.

 **Harry Potter: The Metamorph Files**

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

Privet Drive was quiet and peaceful, though everyone on the street knew it wouldn't belong before it wasn't. It was, after all, that day of the year where the spoiled prat was spoiled even more. This year, Dudley decided he was to wake Harry. Harry could only groan and thank the shuddering stairs as his whale of a cousin, Dudley Dursley, jumped up and down on the spot above his so-called room, waking him from his dreamless sleep. He sat up and sighed. Another birthday for Dudley, another day of chores, chores and more chores for him.

Ever since he could walk and talk, he had been trained to cook, clean and 'act normal'. That last one always made him wonder 'How do I not act normal'? He did everything he was told, got worse grades than Dudley, even if it was barely possible and he had no friends. Though that last one was mostly because Dudley chased them off.

Still, he was glad his uncle, Vernon Dursley didn't wake him in that manner. He was absolutely certain he'd fall right through and land on him, crushing him into a pancake. Harry shuddered at the thought of it. It was definitely one of his worst fears.

He reached for and pulled on his glasses, blinking as everything went from out-of-focus to just about in-focus. It was Dudley's birthday and Harry, fortunately, got to spend the day with the neighbor, Mrs. Figg. Sure her home smelled of cabbage and she bred weird looking cats, but she had at least treated him decently. Better than the teachers who happened to agree with his uncle about Harry being 'a freakish freak', as his _excellent_ vocabulary so _perfectly_ define.

Harry waited a moment, listening to his Aunt Petunia unlock the excess of locks on the cupboard under the stairs before throwing it open and waiting for the boy to crawl out. Harry did just that and, as per the normal routine of his torture, he shuffled tiredly into the kitchen to make 'the perfect breakfast for the perfect boy'. He would've shuddered again, were his aunt not watching him. It never lasted long, of course. He had perfected bacon, eggs and pancakes years ago. Petunia was just doing what she always did, being distrustful of him.

Once satisfied Harry wasn't going to do anything, she moved back into the living room and waited for Dudley to enter. Harry could hear the fat boy's faux surprise at the multitude of presents in the living room and, if he listened hard enough, he could hear the bent, rusted gears turning in Dudleys head as he counted the present.

"Thirty-six," Dudley said, looking up at his mother and father. "That's two less than last year!"

Petunia, being the 'perfect' mother, reached down to pick up one of the smaller presents, "Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's right here." She offered it to the bright pink blob, who took it and wrinkled his nose, his brain working overtime to count again, "All right, thirty-seven then." He started going red in the face, or redder, and Harry could see the start of 'the Dudley Tantrum'. He started scarfing down bacon in case the table was capsized like during Christmas.

Petunia obviously scented danger and swiftly tried to defuse the outburst, "And we'll buy you another _two_ presents. Is that alright?" Dudley thought for a moment, smoke just about pouring out of his ears, "So I'll have thirty… thirty…" He clearly didn't have it. Petunia could only smile softly, "Thirty-nine, popkins." Dudley thought about it again before nodding, "Alright then." He popped his lardy ass down, making the house shudder, though that might've been Harry's imagination.

Vernon chuckled, "Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. 'Atta boy, Dudley!" He ruffled Dudley's hair.

At that moment, the telephone rang and Harry, for whichever reason, felt his heart sink.

A moment later, after Dudley unwrapped a few overly extravagant gifts, Petunia came back and whispered to Vernon, who grew more and more red as the seconds passed. Eventually, Vernon begrudgingly repented before looking to Harry is if he was the worst thing to ever happen in the existence of anything and he could prove it, "Boy. You're coming with us to the zoo." Harry, while excited to go to the zoo, was otherwise devastated. His one day of the year where Dudley didn't beat him for whichever reason was ruined. He rather spend his time counting grass and making sure they were all equal length.

Vernon looked to the falsely crying Dudley before turning to glare at Harry, "See what you did now?! I ought to leave you in the cupboard if I wasn't so sure you'd destroy the house while we were gone!" Harry hadn't said a word, or even moved since Vernon had told him he was going, "However, someone has to keep an eye on you so you don't spread your freak." He huffed and pointed at the cupboard, "Now get into your room and stay there until we're ready to leave." Harry meekly moved to do just that, wish and wishing the Dursleys would just forget he was even there.

An hour went by and Harry listened to the complaints from Dudley about still only having thirty-seven presents when the doorbell sounded. Vernon yelled at Harry to get it. 'As if he had any other volume,' Harry thought. He climbed out of the cupboard and went to the door, pulling it open to reveal one of Dudley's lackey's, Piers Polkiss. To Harry, he looked like nothing more than a rat.

It wasn't long after Piers arrived that they were in Vernon's car and in their way to the zoo. Dudley was distracted with Piers so Harry was enjoying the peace of the ride.

Once they stopped, Vernon pulled Harry to the side to talk to him. "I'm warning you," Vernon's face was steadily getting more and more purple as he spoke, "I'm warning you now, boy - any funny business, anything at all - and you'll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas."

Harry spoke softly, "I'm not going to do anything, honestly…" Vernon didn't believe him. No one ever did. The problem was, strange things often happened around Harry and it was just no good telling the Dursleys he didn't make them happen.

Once, Petunia, tired of Harry coming back from the barbers looking as though he hadn't been at all, had taken a pair of kitchen scissors and cut his hair so short he was almost bald, except for his bangs, which she left "to hide that horrible scar." Dudley had laughed himself silly at Harry, who spent a sleepless night imagining school the next day, where he was already laughed at for his baggy clothes and taped glasses. Next morning, however, he had gotten up to find his hair exactly as it had been before Petunia had sheared it off. He had been given a week in his cupboard for this, even though he had tried to explain that he _couldn't_ explain how it had grown back so quickly.

But today, nothing was going to go wrong. It was even worth being with Dudley and Piers to be spending some time at the zoo.

It was a very sunny Saturday and the zoo was crowded with families. The Dursleys bought Dudley and Piers large chocolate ice creams at the entrance before hurrying the smiling lady in the van could ask Harry what he wanted. 'Well,' Harry thought, 'Nothing new there.'

He snickered as he watched a gorilla scratch his head in a manner that make him look like a hairy Dudley

Honestly, Harry's day was one of the best he's ever had since he'd been living with the Dursley's. He had to be careful to walk a little way apart from the so that Dudley and Piers, who were starting to get bored with the animals by lunchtime, wouldn't fall back to their favorite hobby of hitting him.

He soon felt, afterward, that he should've known it was too good to last.

After lunch, they went to the reptile house. It was cool and dark in there, with lit windows all along the walls. Behind the glass, all sorts of lizards and snakes were crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone. Dudley and Piers wanted to see huge, poisonous cobras and thick, man-crushing pythons. Dudley quickly found the largest snake in the place. It could have wrapped its body twice around Uncle Vernon's car and crushed it into a trash can - but at the moment it didn't look in the mood. In fact, it was fast asleep.

Dudley stood with his nose pressed against the glass, staring at the glistening brown coils.

"Make it move," he whined at his father. Uncle Vernon tapped on the glass, but the snake didn't budge.

"Do it again," Dudley ordered. Uncle Vernon rapped the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake just snoozed on.

"This is boring," Dudley moaned. He shuffled away.

Harry moved in front of the tank and looked intently at the snake. He wouldn't have been surprised if it had died of boredom itself - no company except stupid people drumming their fingers on the glass trying to disturb it all day long. It was worse than having a cupboard as a bedroom, where the only visitor was Aunt Petunia hammering on the door to wake you up; at least he got to visit the rest of the house.

The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were on a level with Harry's.

It winked.

Harry stared. Then he looked quickly around to see if anyone was watching. They weren't. He looked back at the snake and winked, too.

The snake jerked its head toward Uncle Vernon and Dudley, then raised its eyes to the ceiling. It gave Harry a look that said quite plainly:

"I get that all the time."

"I know," Harry murmured through the glass, though he wasn't sure the snake could hear him. "It must be really annoying."

The snake nodded vigorously.

"Where do you come from, anyway?" Harry asked.

The snake jabbed its tail at a little sign next to the glass. Harry peered at it.

 _Boa Constrictor, Brazil._

"Was it nice there?"

The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and Harry read on: This specimen was bred in the zoo. "Oh, I see - so you've never been to Brazil?"

As the snake shook its head, a deafening shout behind Harry made both of them jump. "DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!"

Dudley came waddling toward them as fast as he could.

"Out of the way, you," he said, punching Harry in the ribs. Caught by surprise, Harry fell hard on the concrete floor. What came next happened so fast no one saw how it happened - one second, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the next, they had leapt back with shouts of horror.

Harry sat up and gasped; the glass front of the boa constrictor's tank had vanished. The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor. People throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits.

As the snake slid past him, he stopped and nodded towards Harry before speaking, SPEAKING!, to Harry in a raspy, hissing voice, "Thanksss, amigo."

The zookeepers were utterly apologetic, giving the Dursleys more free things that they could ever stuff into the car and free lifetime passes to the zoo.

They left the zoo not long after and listened to Piers and Dudley exaggerate the story the entire trip, saying things such as "The bloody snake tried to swallow me whole" by Dudley, which made Harry snort softly. Dudley was /far/ too large to fit in the stomach of the snake. Other things said were along the lines of "It had twenty inch fangs and was going to bite me with it's venom!" That also made Harry snort, a bit louder. Clearly they didn't know the boa only killed its prey by crushing it. But if Harry corrected them, he'd be punched again.

When they returned to Privet Drive, Vernon waited until Piers went off with his parents to start on Harry. He was so angry, he could hardly speak. He managed to say, "Go - cupboard - stay - no meals," before he collapsed into a chair and Petunia had to run to get him a brandy.

Harry lay in the cupboard until much later, glad Petunia was too distracted with trying to calm Vernon to remember to lock him in for the night. It was well past midnight when he scampered out to sneak some of the now-cold dinner.

Once he had his fill, he walked back into the cupboard and tucked himself in for the night, going back to his always-dreamless sleep.

 **Quite Some Time Later**

This had been Harry's longest lasting punishment to date. By the time he was allowed out of the cupboard again, other than for the essentials (school, bathroom and chores), the summer holidays had started.

Sure Harry was glad school was over, but there was no escaping Dudley and his lackeys, since they came over every day. Dudley, the biggest and stupidest of the lot, was obviously the leader. The lackeys were certainly more than willing to join Dudley in his favorite sport: Harry Hunting.

This was why Harry spent as much time as possible out of the house, wandering around and thinking about the end of the holidays, where he could see a tiny ray of hope. When September came he would be going off to middle school and, for the first time in his life, he wouldn't be with Dudley. Dudley had been accepted at Uncle Vernon's old private school, Smeltings. Piers Polkiss was going there too. Harry, on the other hand, was going to Stonewall High, the local public school with a high stone wall around it. Dudley thought this was very funny.

"They stuff people's heads down the toilet the first day at Stonewall," he told Harry. "Want to come upstairs and practice?"

"No, thanks," said Harry. "The poor toilet's never had anything as horrible as your head down it - it might be sick." Then he ran, before Dudley could work out what he'd said.

One day in July, Aunt Petunia took Dudley to London to buy his Smeltings uniform, leaving Harry at Mrs. Figg's. Mrs. Figg wasn't as bad as usual. It turned out she'd broken her leg tripping over one of her cats, and she didn't seem quite as fond of them as before. She let Harry watch television and gave him a bit of chocolate cake that tasted as though she'd had it for several years.

That evening, Dudley paraded around the living room for the family in his brand-new uniform. Smeltings' boys wore maroon tailcoats, orange knickerbockers, and flat straw hats called boaters. They also carried knobbly sticks, used for hitting each other while the teachers weren't looking. This was supposed to be good training for later life.

As he looked at Dudley in his new knickerbockers, Uncle Vernon said gruffly that it was the proudest moment of his life. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and said she couldn't believe it was her Ickle Dudleykins, he looked so handsome and grown-up. Harry didn't trust himself to speak. He thought two of his ribs might already have cracked from trying not to laugh.

There was a horrible smell in the kitchen the next morning when Harry went in for breakfast. It seemed to be coming from a large metal tub in the sink. He went to have a look. The tub was full of what looked like dirty rags swimming in gray water.

"What's this?" he asked Aunt Petunia. Her lips tightened as they always did if he dared to ask a question.

"Your new school uniform," she said.

Harry looked in the bowl again.

"Oh," he said, "I didn't realize it had to be so wet."

"Don't be stupid," snapped Aunt Petunia. "I'm dyeing some of Dudley's old things gray for you. It'll look just like everyone else's when I've finished."

Harry seriously doubted this, but thought it best not to argue. He sat down at the table and tried not to think about how he was going to look on his first day at Stonewall High - like he was wearing bits of old elephant skin, probably.

Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in, both with wrinkled noses because of the smell from Harry's new uniform. Uncle Vernon opened his newspaper as usual and Dudley banged his Smelting stick, which he carried everywhere, on the table.

They heard the click of the mail slot and flop of letters on the doormat.

"Get the mail, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon from behind his paper.

"Make Harry get it."

"Get the mail, Harry."

"Make Dudley get it."

"Poke him with your Smelting stick, Dudley."

Harry dodged the Smelting stick and went to get the mail. Three things lay on the doormat: a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister Marge, who was vacationing on the Isle of Wight and a brown envelope that looked like a bill. Mm. Nothing for him, as always. Why should he expect different.

As Harry turned to go inside, he was stopped by an elderly gent in a long, emerald green robe with a beard long enough to tuck into a waistband and half-moon glasses. Harry hadn't seen him come up and he was standing right on the doorstep. His eyes twinkled kindly and he smiled, "Hello Harry." Harry blinked and shook his head before looking back up at the man, "Ah.. hello." He peered around Harry, "May I come in? I would like to speak with your… relatives." Harry nodded before turning around and calling out to Vernon, "Uncle Vernon! There's… someone at the door to see you."

Vernon, being the lazy lard he is, shouted back irritably, "Well?! Bring them in, boy!" Harry flinched and did so again to look to the old man, whose expression showed almost nothing but anger. Harry meekly showed him in and moved to give Vernon the mail. The old man followed.

As Vernon turned to get the mail and greet the guest, his face turned purple with rage before paling as he saw the angry expression on the older man.

Harry had never seen this side of Vernon and neither had Dudley so the two of them left the dining area and went to their rooms, not knowing what was going to happen.

[1]It would be many scarily silent hours before he heard a knocking the the cupboard before the old man pulled the door open and beckoned Harry out, "Come Harry. Gather your things. We're leaving."

Harry didn't try to argue with the man though he didn't move to gather anything. Everything important he had he basically already had on. The older man paused and raised a brow at Harry, prompting him to explain, "I.. don't have anything to take, sir. This is all that fits without a belt or safety pins."

The old man looked angry again, if only for a moment, before he sighed, "Yes, well… We'll have to remedy that, won't we? I suppose we'll do that while I explain while I'm here." He put a hand on Harry's shoulder before a faint pop sounded out and things went dark. Harry felt like he was squeezing through a small rubber tube before he and the elderly man popped into a quaint little alley.

Harry stumbled forward but caught himself… before he rushed over to a wastebasket and hurled, emptying the few contents of his stomach into it. He could hear the old man chuckle, as if he knew it was going to happen, "My apologies, Harry. I had forgotten the first few times appariting can be rather rough." He moved over to rub Harry's back, "You will feel better shortly."

While Harry did that, the old man waved his wand over Harry, as if scanning him. He frowned at the results before shaking head. He was going to talk to Harry about it soon anyway.

Once Harry had recovered enough, the old man started to speak, "Ah, perhaps I should have introduced myself before taking you here. I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And perhaps I should have mentioned that you, Harry, are a wizard." He stroked his beard in thought, "I apologize for not saying this to you before we left, but I had to get away from that deplorable excuse of a family." He sighed and looked down to young Harry, who seemed flabbergasted at what he had just been told.

Dumbledore, ever the charismatic man, pulled a yellow candy out of his sleeve, "Lemon drop? I found them in a muggle shop years ago and swiftly became addicted to them." He chuckled mirthfully, completely ignoring Harry's dumbfounded stares, "No? That is fine." He unwrapped the candy and popped it into his mouth before continuing, "Now… where was I? Ah, yes. I understand Mister and Missus Dursley told you your parents died in a car crash?" He didn't wait for Harry to nod, placing a hand on his shoulder and taking him over to a quiet little shop so they could talk better in private.

He wandlessly cast a Notice-Me-Not and silencing charm, preventing any eavesdroppers, all without Harry noticing, "I am afraid you weren't quite told the truth. You see, your parents were heroes. They stood up to a dark wizard known as Voldemort… If I had to compare him to one of your muggle equivalents, Hitler would come close. He and his followers preached 'blood purity', wanting to rid themselves of muggleborn and half-blood wizards and witches because he and his followers thought they were tainting the wizarding world."

He looked to Harry to make sure he was still following. He had Harry gripping onto every word with a fervor, as he should. He was talking about his parents after all, "Yes, well, they defied him three separate times. They arrested his men, escaped his grasp and, finally, thwarted him when they bore you." He smiled sadly down at Harry, "Your parents sacrificed their lives for you, Harry, so you could live. Voldemort eventually found your parents and, I am sorry to say, killed them. When he turned his wand on you… well, no one is quite sure what happened that night. It is believed that he could not harm an innocent child, such as yourself. I do not believe it, myself, but I have no other theories to suggest otherwise."

He cleared his throat and reached to uncover Harry's scar, "What everyone is certain of is... he gave you that scar with the last of his power, attempting to kill you." He released the few locks of hair and let the bangs fall back into place.

He sighed softly and continued the story, "After your parents were killed, I had decided to put you with the Dursleys." He held up a hand as Harry tried to speak, "Let me explain, Harry." Once Harry was suitably silenced, he continued again, "Your mothers sacrifice empowered her blood. Petunia shares her blood, as do you and your cousin Dudley. I set up a series of blood charms around the house so that, as long as you called it your home, all wizards and witches cannot harm you."

He reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose, "I did not know how mistreated you were until I pulled your pre-prepared Hogwarts acceptance letter. When I saw 'The Cupboard _Under_ the Stairs', I knew you weren't treated right. From what they told me, you were never struck by them. Is that correct?" At the shake of Harry's head, his expression turned angry again, "Then please, Harry, tell me the truth."

Harry nodded and spoke with a hoarse voice, obviously upset at what he had been told, "Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia never hit me, sir. It was always Dudley and his friends. They never broke anything so the Dursleys would have to take me to hospital but I was often badly bruised."

Dumbledore frowned, shaking his head softly, "There is nothing you or I can do to, as muggles say, 'get back at him'. He is a child. Once he becomes an adult, however, I'm sure he'll act up like he does with you and be swiftly taken by Aurors… or was it policemen? Muggles have such silly words." He cleared his throat again, "Now, Harry, I have made arrangements so you would no longer have to go back to the Dursleys if you so wish… though, with what I have told them, I fear they would no longer welcome you to their home. For that, my boy, I am sorry."

Harry shook his head, "It's all right, sir. I didn't much like it there." He hesitated a moment and continued, "Am… am I really a wizard, sir?" When Dumbledore nodded, he went on, "And you say my parents are wizards?" When Dumbledore nodded again, he settled into the chair.

Dumbledore let Harry sit on that for a moment before he pulled a letter out of his robes and offered it to Harry. Harry took it and read the front.

 _Mr. H. Potter_

 _The Cupboard_ Under _the Stairs_

 _4 Privet Drive._

 _Little Whinging,_

 _Surrey_

Harry opened the letter up, breaking the old-styled wax seal and pulling out the two parchments inside. He unfolded the first one and began to read.

 **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

 _ **Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore**_

 _(Order of Merlin: First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)_

 _Mr. Potter,_

 _We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

 _Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

 _Yours Sincerely,_

 _ **Minerva McGonagall**_

 _ **Deputy Headmistress**_

Harry looked up to Dumbledore, "So this isn't all a lie." Dumbledore looked saddened by him asking, "Of course not, Harry." To prove it, he pulled out his wand and spoke a single word, "Lumos." It was a very basic spell, the tip of his wand lighting up in a bright white light. He flicked the wand, sending the light up and away, showing it wasn't just a torch.

Harry paled slightly. He hadn't expected it to be real. Uncle Vernon hated anything about magic and changed the channel if it came up on the television. He quickly shook his head and looked back to Dumbledore, "If magic is real, why doesn't everyone know about it?"

Dumbledore sighed, "I'm afraid I can't tell you. At least, not right now. If you decided to accept your acceptance to Hogwarts, there is a class called 'History of Magic' which goes through the history of the magical world. It is advisable that muggleborns and muggle-raised students go through the class. I warn you, though, it is quite boring. I even fell asleep during it while I was a student."

Dumbledore produced a quill and ink, sliding it across the table for Harry to use, "Sign at the bottom and I'll take it to be filed. Once that's done, I'll take you shopping for books, school supplies and then clothing. Afterward, I'll take you to a friend. His house is where you'll be staying until school starts."

Harry nodded and took the quill. He hadn't used one before but he'd seen it in a movie. He dipped the quill in the ink and did his best to sign his name, butchering his signature since using a quill was rather hard. Once he was done, he slid the items over to Dumbledore, who took them items and stored them… somewhere in his robes.

Dumbledore smiled down at Harry, "Welcome to the student body of Hogwarts, Mister Potter. Now, if you follow me, I'll help you get your supplies and clothes. We have much to discuss."

Dumbledore stood and, waiting for Harry to do the same, walked down the alley.

* * *

Yes, I have taken a bit straight from the book, mainly since I gotta keep it mostly canon for now. And then I go radically different! IN YOUR FACE LOGIC!

[1] I could not think of a word of an argument between Dumbledore and Vernon or Vernon and Hagrid or Vernon and anyone else I could put that hasn't been done before. So I went for the silencing magic approach. I'll probably think of something later and give Dumbledore a flashback so he can bash himself or something. Maybe a pensieve if I want Harry to see it.


	3. Chapter 2

I own nothing relating to any series, including the Harry Potter franchise. I want the British series of the book so much.

 **Harry Potter: The Metamorph Files**

 **Chapter 2**

Harry hurried to keep up with Dumbledore, who stopped to wait. Once Harry was caught up, Dumbledore gestured up and down the alley, "Welcome, Harry, to Diagon Alley. The finest place to buy your wizarding supplies."

Harry could only stare in wonder at the oddity that was Diagon Alley. That's not to say it was bad. It was sort of like an outdoor mall. It was the things in the windows that made him stare. From broomsticks to rainbow colored flowers to small ugly men barely four feet tall.

Dumbledore let out a kindly chuckle and pats Harry's shoulder, "Yes, yes. It is all quite nice, is it not? It wasn't as grand as this when I first came here… but it has been many years since then and one does not expect things to stay the same after so long." He sighs wistfully and starts to guide Harry around to some shops, stopping here and there to talk to some people who were excited to see the 'Man Who Defeated Grindelwald' outside of Hogwarts. When they entered a book shop by the name 'Flourish and Blotts', Harry stopped and stared at the piles upon piles of books.

While he never really did good in school, he did like to read while Dudley and his group didn't bother him. And it was mainly Dudleys fault for doing so bad in school that he did so poorly. The Dursleys didn't like him getting better grades than Dudley.

Dumbledore, taking note of Harry stopping, turned to him, "I take it you like to read?" At Harry's nod, he continued, "I see… How about this. You gather your school books and I will gather some you can read in your free time." Harry, excited that he could read all he wanted and didn't have to bother holding back because Dudley wasn't there, hurried around the shop to gather his school books, stopping once or twice to check the list… and grab the 'Grade 2' spellbook. He needed 'Grade 1' and, since he knew nothing of magic, it would be a challenge for him.

After gathering the books he needed, he moved around the shop to find Dumbledore, who was floating a small pile of books next to him. Dumbledore smiled at him, his eyes twinkling, "Find everything?" At Harry's nod, "Right then. Come up to the counter. I'll pay for your books and then we shall go get you your wand." They walked to the counter and Dumbledore pulled a small pouch out of his sky-blue robes. Wasn't it just green? Must be another wizard thing.

Dumbledore reached into the pouch and pulled out some strange coins. He looked over at Harry, starting his explanation of the coins, "This is the currency we, in the wizarding side of Britain, use. They are Knuts, Sickles and Galleons." He held up a different coin with each one he said, Knuts were bronze, Sickles silver and Galleons gold, "The exchange rate is as follows. Twenty-nine knuts to a sickle and seventeen sickles to a galleon. One knut is one pence, one sickle is twenty-nine pence and one galleon is four pounds, ninety-three pence. That should make it a little easier for you to understand."

Dumbledore handed over a few Galleons, sickles and a handful of knuts. The books were put into a bag and, with a swish and flick of the wand, the bag shrunk down until it was small enough to fit in Harry's pockets. Dumbledore gently picked the small bag up and handed it to Harry, "Careful now. They are small and can be squashed quite easily now." Harry nodded and gently slid the supposedly fragile bag of books into his pocket, "Where next, sir?"

Dumbledore looked down at Harry, "Right next door, to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. We need to get you out of those horrid clothes, now don't we?" As they exited the shop, they turned right and entered the shop next door.

It was much like a regular clothes shop, other than the fact they only had robes lining the walls in all sizes. They were ones big enough for seven Dumbledores! Maybe not in height but definitely in width. The only other odd thing about the store was the measuring and chalk thing used for… measuring and marking where the clothes needed to be adjusted. It moved around on it's own, wrapping around arms and marking spot here and there that needed to be loosened or tucked. As soon as Harry walked in, it flew to him and started measuring him. Though, it didn't last long. A pair of scissors flew over and cut up his clothes just before a sheet flew forward, wrapping him up and carrying him off. It scared the shit out of him, almost literally.

Harry was pulled into a back room, where measuring tapes measured him and cloth was cut, sewn and pulled over his head. Seconds later, a pair of pants were shoved onto his legs and pulled up to his waist. While this experience was disturbing, the clothes fit much better than the ones that were shredded. Not even half a minute had gone by since he entered the room and he had been fitted with a pumpkin-orange tee-shirt and black slacks. Each one felt as soft as a baby's bottom.

A rather squat woman - not even matching Harry's height - walked in a minute later, wearing mauve robes. She sized Harry up, "Glad I got you out of those horrid muggle clothes. I apologize for how abrupt it was but I couldn't exactly have anyone in such rubbish clothes as that in my shop. These are on the house, dear." She smiles at Harry, "Now, how can I help you? First year Hogwarts, I suppose?" At Harry's nod, she nods back, "Right, just a moment and I'll get you all sorted out."

She pulled out her wand and muttered an incantation before flicking her wand at Harry, hitting him with a white beam of light. It wasn't nearly as bright as the spell Dumbledore had cast. Madam Malkin - at least, that's who Harry guessed she was - frowned and cast the spell again. It hit Harry again and she frowned even further. Looking up to Harry, she asked him a question, "Might I ask who brought you here today?" Harry, a little confused, answered honestly, "Err, Dumbledore brought me."

Malkin's eyes went wide and her eyes darted up to his forehead. Dumbledore wasn't known to personally bring any child to Diagon Alley. He rarely visited it, in fact. She nodded to Harry, "I'll be right back, Mr. Potter."

Harry blinked. He hadn't expected her to know his name. He certainly didn't tell her it. Maybe it was another wizard thing. He was pretty sure she was Madam Malkin, but that was mostly because she said it was her shop.

Harry was measured by the tools again while… well, he didn't really know what Malkin was doing but the scissors and needles were making clothes which looked like they might fit him. He didn't know what to do, so he just stood there and waited.

It wasn't long before Malkin returned, smiling at him, "Nothing to worry about, Mr. Potter. I just needed a quick discussion with Albus." She moves over to a rack of robes and pulls one off, "I had to custom make these for another customer. Since you are… like her, let me fix them up and they'll be perfect for you." She let out a short whistle and the tools that were measuring Harry went over to her, marking the robe here and there. She pulled out her wand again and muttered another incantation. Giving a swish and flick of her wand, she cast the spell on the robe. It nipped and tucked here and there before it flew over to Harry and went over his head. Once it was on properly, it tightened to an uncomfortable degree for a couple second before it loosened and fit properly.

Harry looked down at the robe and smiled. It fit perfectly and made him feel like a wizard from one of the books he picked up at the school library while he was hiding from Dudley and his gang. Dudley was allergic to libraries so he never looked there.

After letting Harry adjust to the robe, Malkin got two more from the same rack and did the same thing, though these didn't go over Harry's head. Once she was done, she smiled to him, "The underclothing is on the house. Dumbledore is paying for your school robes." Harry pulled the robe off and frowned, "He's paid for everything today. Does he do this normally?"

Malkin shook her head, "Not my place to say, deary."

Harry frowned but paid it no mind. He was probably just being nice. It was the first time Harry had something like this happen and, although he was suspicious, he wanted to enjoy it. Malkin took the robes and placed them in a bag before she shrunk it down like Dumbledore did the books. Smiling at him, she placed a hand on his forearm, "Come back at any time, Mr. Potter." She gave him the bag and sent him off. Harry, not seeing Dumbledore or his sky-blue robes, exited the shop and looked around.

Still not seeing him, Harry went to a nearby bench and sat down, hoping he hadn't left him.

Five minutes later, when Harry started regretting coming, Dumbledore showed back up, carrying another bag of things. He strutted over to Harry and offered him the bag, "Sorry to make you wait, Harry, but I thought I would gather up the rest of your school supplies while you were in Madam Malkin's."

Harry nodded and took the bag, looking through it. He was glad it all wasn't just one big prank set up by the Dursleys. He didn't think they had a sense of humor.

Harry looked up at Dumbledore, "Sir, I haven't got a wand."

Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling. It was definitely a magic thing, one that only he seemed to be able to do, "Of course not, my boy. Each wand is unique. Come, I will take you down to Ollivander's. There is no finer place in the wizarding world than Ollivander's for a wand."

A magic wand… this was what Harry had been looking forward to.

A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single, spindly chair that Dumbledore sat on to wait. Harry felt strangely as though he had entered a very strict library; he swallowed a lot of new questions that had just occurred to him and looked instead at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason, the back of his neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Harry jumped.

An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.

"Hello," said Harry awkwardly.

"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter." It wasn't a question. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."

Mr. Ollivander moved closer to Harry. Harry wished he would blink. Those silvery eyes were a bit creepy.

"Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it, it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

Mr. Ollivander had come so close that he and Harry were almost nose to nose. Harry could see himself reflected in those misty eyes.

"And that's where…"

Mr. Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Harry's forehead with a long, white finger.

"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly. "Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands… well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do…"

He shook his head and then, to Harry's relief, spotted Dumbledore.

"Albus! Albus Dumbledore! How nice to see you again… Ebony, fifteen inches, rather firm, wasn't it? Though that's not the wand you use now, is it? Treat the one you use well or… well, I suppose you already know with how you got it. You still have your original wand, yes?" **[1]**

Dumbledore paled. He had gotten his first wand from Ollivander's father, Gervaise, nearly fifteen years before Ollivander had been born. He hadn't expected him to know that he wasn't using his original wand. He clears his throat, "Yes, Garrick." He didn't want to say much more. He didn't much want to talk about it, not in front of Harry, nor in front of any other student. He would have to come back to Ollivander's some other time to talk with Garrick.

Ollivander smiled, "Good, good. How's Rubeus Hagrid? Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy. Good wand, that one. A shame it was snapped."

He didn't seem to focus as Dumbledore spoke, turning back to Harry, "Well now, Mr. Potter, let me see." He pulled a long measuring tape with silver markings out of his pocket, "Which arm is your wand arm?"

"Er, well, I'm right handed," said Harry.

"Hold out your arm. That's it." He measured Harry from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head. As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."

Harry suddenly realized that the tape measure, which was measuring between his nostrils, was doing this on its own. Mr. Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.

"That will do," he said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Right then, Mr. Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. just take it and give it a wave."

Harry took the wand and (feeling foolish) waved it around a bit, but Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of his hand almost at once.

"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try-"

Harry tried but he had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was snatched back by Mr. Ollivander.

"No, no. Here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out."

Harry tried. And tried. He had no idea what Mr. Ollivander was waiting for. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the spindly chair, but the more wands Mr. Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to become.

"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere. I wonder, now... yes, why not. Unusual combination. Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

Harry took the wand. He felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls. Dumbledore clapped softly and Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well… how curious… how very curious…"

He put Harry's wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering, "Curious... curious...

"Sorry," said Harry, "but what's curious?"

Mr. Ollivander fixed Harry with his pale stare.

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather. Just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother… why, its brother gave you that scar."

Harry swallowed.

"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember... I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter… After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things. Terrible, yes, but great."

Harry shivered. He wasn't sure he liked Mr. Ollivander too much. Dumbledore paid seven Galleons for Harry's wand and Mr. Ollivander bowed them from his shop.

Once they were out the door and out of the way of any other possible customers, Dumbledore grabbed Harry and disapparited, pulling them away from Diagon Alley. They landed on a doorstep and, like last time they did this, Harry threw up. There wasn't a trash can so Harry leaned over the stair railing and puked where no one would step on it.

Dumbledore chuckled and lightly rubbed Harry's back, trying to soothe the poor boy. He waved his wand and vanished the mess, "There there, Harry. You will get used to appariting."

Letting Harry calm, Dumbledore moved up to the door. He rapped on the door, waiting for an answer.

A minute later, a small house elf opened the door, "May Wobbles knows what Mr. Dumbly-dorr wants of Mistress Tonkses?"

Dumbledore smiled down at the house elf, "Yes. I have a Mr. Harry Potter here with me and I need to ask her a most important favor."

Wobbles look over to Harry and looked ecstatic. She looked like she wanted to hug him. She didn't, though. She looked back to Dumbledore and nodded, "Come in Mr. Dumbly-dorr. Bring Harry Potter. I shall fetch Mistress Tonkses."

The elf popped away, looking as happy as ever. Harry followed Dumbledore inside, the door shutting itself behind them.

A woman emerged from the doorway next to them. She was rather pretty, in a patrician way. Her hair was a dark brown and it didn't look like had put it up in some specific way. Rather, it looked like she had combed it and left it like that. It was a little curly, but it looked like it was naturally so. Her eyes were a dark brown and shown with kindness.

She smiled at Dumbledore, offering him a nod, "Headmaster." She looked to Harry and smiled to him as well, "And you must be Harry Potter. Wobbles has told us a lot about you from the Potter house elves. Of course, you were just over a year old when they last saw you."

Dumbledore cleared his throat, "Yes, good to see you again Andromeda. I hate to rush but I need to get back to Hogwarts soon. We need a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and I've spent quite some time away from it. Is Edward and Nymphadora home?"

There was a slightly muffled shouting from another female, "Don't call me Nymphadora!" There was a sound of someone walking in an upstairs hall… and then a thud that sounded like they fell. Hard.

Harry looked to Andromeda and Dumbledore. They hadn't a smirk on their face. They had clearly gone through this before.

After a bit of muffled swearing, another pretty woman - obviously a few years younger than Andromeda- popped up from behind a corner and started making her way downstairs. She had bubblegum pink hair and eyes to match her mother. She didn't particularly look like Andromeda though, "Wotcher Mum, Dumbledore… Shorty."

She reached out to ruffle Harry's hair, "Nice to meet ya. 'm Tonks." Her mother glared at her but made no comment.

Harry bowed his head, "I'm Harry, Harry Potter."

Predictably, Tonk's eyes went wide and she glanced up to his forehead. Fortunately, she made no comment about 'The-Boy-Who-Lived' thing like Albus thought she would.

Tonks grinned and patted his back, "Like I said, nice to meet ya." She looked to Dumbledore and raised an eyebrow, "So, what brings you and Harry here, Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore cleared his throat, "I was hoping to wait for Edward to return… but since the two of you are certain to tell him, I suppose I can trust you to do so." He turned to Andromeda, "May we adjourn to your living room?"

Andromeda nodded and turned around, walking into the room she had left, "It's just over here." She paused and called out for her house elf, "Wobbles!" She only had to wait a second for the elf to appear, who did so with a salute, "Yes Mistress Tonkses?" Andromeda smiled at her, "Some tea for our guest, if you please." The house elf nodded vigorously, "Yes Mistress Tonkses, right away!"

Harry looked a little confused at the elf. He had been sick when he first heard her and didn't notice she wasn't human. He looked up to Dumbledore with a questioning look. Dumbledore returned the look with one that said 'not now'. Harry didn't push it.

As soon as they had all gotten comfortable on the leather seats, or couch in Harry and Tonk's case, Andromeda started, "So, what is it that you wanted to tell us Albus? Something to do with Harry here, I suppose."

Albus nodded, "Yes, well… It is a little complicated. I should start from the beginning. I recieved a letter from Harry's parents on October the twenty-fourth, nineteen eighty-one. They were… exceptionally worried about some traits Harry showed and asked if I could see them and young Harry." He gestured to Harry as he said his name, "I was able to see them October the thirtieth." At Andromeda's frown, he nodded, "Yes, it is possible that I am at fault for their deaths. They had to floo to me and it could have been caught by one of Voldemort's spies at the Ministry." He pauses to let them shudder. He hated how they did that. It was just a name.

He nods softly, "I regret that I could have caused that, and for an issue that was not originally an issue at all. I did not know it at the time, but I never needed to do what I did. You see, Harry here is a Metamorphmagus, like Nymphadora."

Tonks automatically responded, "Don't call me Nymphadora!" At her mothers glares, the rest got through to her and she looked stunned."

Before they could continue, though, Albus did, "I had been mistaken about the traits of the metamorphmagi." He gestured to Tonks, "Tonks has shown that through the pranks she played on the students at Hogwarts." He turned to Tonks, his eyes twinkling, "Yes, Tonks. I know about you transfiguring your robes into ones like mine and making yourself appear as me to prank other students. I found it rather amusing."

Getting back on topic, Dumbledore continued, "You see, I had thought that a metamorphmagus required a certain sense-of-self before they used their powers so they would not forget how the originally appeared to be. I have seen Tonks turn to what she looked as before she made changes, even if those changes lasted most of the year. Now, I should explain what I have done to Harry."

Tonks looked excited that there was another metamorph like her and was hardly paying attention to Dumbledore. She stared at Harry, hoping to see some evidence of his powers. Andromeda looked stunned. She had searched for another metamorphmagus for years, trying to see if they would help Nymphadora learn to control her powers. Never had she expected Nymphadora to teach someone their abilities.

As for Harry, he was confused. He had never heard of a metamorphmagus. Heck, he had never even believed in magic before this morning. It was all a bit of a shell shock.

Dumbledore let them soak in the information they had just heard before he continued on, "You see, I sealed Harry's abilities, as well as a hearty portion of his magic core. I had thought it was for the best, so he would not lose himself." He halted the Tonks' cries of shock and anger with a quick raising of his hand, "I had permission from both of his parents to do so. They were worried and Voldemort was still loose. Had they still been alive, I have no doubt that the seal would have come off when they learned of Tonks."

He still expected to be yelled at. And he would accept it. But he wasn't quite finished, "There is another thing. The seal has stressed Harry's magical core, causing it to grow to an incredible degree. By the time he graduates Hogwarts, I have no doubt he will be stronger than I."

He drew his wand and waved it over Harry, muttering a longer incantation than the one Madam Malkin did.

Harry suddenly felt violently ill, then better, then ill again, then like he was going to sneeze, then better again. It was all very sudden and made his head feel light. Harry shook his head, the feeling going away rather suddenly.

Dumbledore turned back to the two Tonks', reaching down for the tea that suddenly appeared on the table. He took a few sips before he continued again, "Due to some things I had said to Harry's muggle relatives, Harry does not have somewhere to stay. Sirius Black, your cousin, is the boys godfather. I hope that, with that information and his abilities, you would be willing to care for him. You will be fully compensated while he lives with you and paid storage fees while he is at Hogwarts."

He pulls up his sleeve and checks the five different watches on his arm, each one telling a different time. Frowning, he pushes the sleeve back down and looks to Andromeda. Her face was set with steely determination.

She had kept up with Sirius before he was sent to Azkaban and even gave him room and board to hide from the Death Eaters. He was proud to be a godfather and would've done no harm to James, Lily and definitely not to Harry. He even confided in her that he wasn't the secret keeper to their Fidelus hidden home, though he wouldn't say who was.

She nodded to Dumbledore, "Yes, of course. Sirius was a good friend and looked after Nymphadora while we were out shopping. She was only seven at the time, so I don't think she remembers." She looked over to her daughter, whose hair had turned red but wisely stayed quiet when her mother had called her by her real name. Smiling wistfully, she turned back to Dumbledore, "Don't worry about payment. Lily and James were dear friends, what little time I spent with them. I would ask a favor of you, though."

Dumbledore raised a brow and gestured for her to continue, and so she did, "I don't believe Sirius had anything to do with James and Lily's deaths, nor those muggles. Can you look into that for me? See if there is something you can do to get Sirius free?"

Dumbledore looked surprised. Most people thought Sirius was guilty. Of course, he had had his suspicions… but without any evidence, he had no reason to look into the case. He reached up to stroke his beard, his fingers sliding down and making the tip into a point, "I suppose I could… I never believed Sirius was guilty myself but, as I became Chief Warlock after the Death Eater trials, I believed fair trials were given." He gives a short nod, "Yes, I will look into it. Just one more thing."

Dumbledore pulled a few pieces of paper out of his bright maroon robes. Harry liked his robes. Not the design, of course, that was dreadful... but they fact that they changed colors every now and then.

Dumbledore offered the papers over to Andromeda, "Here are the parchments for the legal documentation required for custody over Harry. Sign by the X's and I shall take it to be filed immediately. With the muggle authority, of course. There would be far too press about this with the Ministry of Magic and you would be swarmed with reporters before the days end."

Andromeda signed the papers where told and offer them back to Dumbledore. When he took them, he stood and offered a bow to her, "Thank you." He turned to Harry and Tonks, "I shall see you two when the school year starts." With that, he disappeared with crack, leaving Harry confused.

Harry spoke up for the first time since he said his name, "I'm a what?"

* * *

 **[1]** Completely non-canon. I have no idea what his original wand was and googling didn't help.

The wand shop part was taken directly from the book, slightly edited for Dumbledore instead of Hagrid.

I don't know why, but I never saw Dumbledore as a man that used contractions. It has made it very hard to write his sentences. I hope it fits.

Since I've had a review or PM - I can't remember which - asking me this, I'll go ahead and tell you all. If you look it up, you can see Harry started Hogwarts in 1991. Tonk's last year in Hogwarts was in 1991. I'm keeping it that way. She's.. Something like six years older than him? Let me double check…

She was born 1973. Harry was born 1980. So 6-7 years older.

You all had no idea how much I was debating Harry and Tonks being together. I love little Teddy and he'd be a hellishly adorable baby metamorph. Too bad we don't actually see him through the series.

I thank the Harry Potter wikia for helping me in my research and my two anonymous betas. Anonymous to you all, at least.


	4. Chapter 3

I own nothing relating to any series, including the Harry Potter franchise. I want the British series of the book so much. (Philosopher's Stone, not Sorcerer's)

 **Harry Potter: The Metamorph Files**

 **Chapter 3**

Harry looked absolutely stunned. He had just learned that he was a wizard and now he learned he was a different kind of wizard. Something called a 'metamorphmagus'. Of course, he had absolutely no idea what that what and Dumbledore provided no explanation before he left, so he had to ask the two women he was with, "I'm a what?"

Andromeda facepalms, "He didn't explain anything to you did he?" She held up her hand to stop him from speaking, "Of course not. Sirius told me about his… eccentric manner." She sighed, "You are a metamorphmagus, Harry. They are wizards who have the ability to alter their appearance at will." She turns to Nymphadora and raises a brow, asking a silent question.

She obviously got the hint as her form started to change, morphing into a copy of Dumbledore. She was still in her regular clothes, so seeing Dumbledore in a seven-sizes too-small shirt that showed off most of his stomach and what looked like skinny jeans on him was very funny. Harry couldn't keep himself from laughing, especially as Nymphadora stroked her long, grey beard in a thinking manner.

Nymphadora took her time changing back, keeping the bushy beard but having turned it pink to match her hair. She grinned and winked at Harry as the beard slowly sunk into her face, going back to where ever it originally came from.

It took Harry a couple minutes to regain his composure, having enjoyed the odd sight quite a bit. Once he did, he noticed the odd look Nymphadora was giving him but was quickly distracted by Andromeda talking again, "There are limitations. Dora here can get to the size of a small goblin and I'd have no doubts that you'd be the same. Unlike Polyjuice potions, you stay the same weight as you originally were. Unlike Polyjuice potions, however, you can take on animal traits, such as a pigs snout or a ducks bill. Knowing anatomy helps you with details - such as scars or giving yourself night-vision - but the natural magic of the metamorphmagus keeps you from making it so you have no throat or something like it."

Andromeda paused, waiting for Harry's question. Harry looked thoughtful and very confused but didn't ask, wanting to hear the rest of what she had to say.

Andromeda smirked at him, thinking he wasn't asking because he was polite and not because he was yelled at if he asked too many questions. She continued after she was sure he wasn't going to ask, "Scars are wounds that, unlike normal skin, are healed in one direction, instead of like woven silk. Night-vision is more complicated because no known person actually has it, so you'd have to figure it out for yourself… or get Dora to help you, if she knows how."

Nymphadora spoke up once her mother finished, "It's a bit taxing on your stamina, too. At first, I couldn't do much more than change my hair to pink for a few hours but, with a bit of working out in my… actual body and continued use of my ability, I could hold my current appearance for days. Tried doing it in my sleep too, but I just can't seem to do it. It doesn't take much magic power, so you don't have to worry about it making it hard to cast spells. I can't walk worth a damn though. Might be the same with you." The odd look Nymphadora was giving him dulled while she was talking but it still remained. He couldn't tell what it was, though.

His pushed the thoughts to the side as Andromeda spoke again, "You were muggle-raised, right? Muggles are what we call non-magicals, if you didn't know." At Harry's nod, she continued, "Hmm… alright. I'll help teach you some things about the Magical Society and I'll… convince my husband to teach you about wizarding politics and your future role in it. For now, go shower -take as long as you want, Harry- and get ready for dinner. Dora, show him to the guest room and help unshrink his supplies. I'll owl Ted and inform him about Harry. Once you're done, Dora, come straight back so we can talk."

Nymphadora did what she was told, lightly slapping Harry's arm, "Come on munchkin. Your room is next to mine. Be good and I'll teach you some tricks for first year magic." As he followed her, she ruffled his hair, grinning down at him.

They climbed upstairs without another word though, once they got into the guest room - it was as large as Dudley's room! - Harry pulled the bags out of his pocket carefully, remembering what Dumbledore had told time about them being fragile in their shrunken state, and set them on the floor. Nymphadora pulled out her wand and flicked them over the bags and muttering two words, just barely loud enough for Harry to hear, "Finite Incantatem."

Harry gaped when the bags grew back to their normal size, "I love magic."

Harry turned to the pink haired girl and grinned, "Can you teach me that?"

Nymphadora laughed and ruffled Harry's hair, "Sure thing, shorty. I gotta talk to mom for a bit, though. Get a change a clothes and follow me to the bathroom." Harry moved to do just that, pulling some of his new clothes out before he followed after Nymphadora. She just laughed again and showed him the bathroom, "Here it is. Take as long as you want, shorty." Ruffling his hair once again, she moved back towards the living room.

Once she was in the living room, she took one of the seats from across her mother, crossing her arms and huffing. Andromeda, expecting this, just sighed. They both sat silently until they heard Harry start up the shower.

Nymphadora started, "Mom, I-..."

She stopped as her mother held her hand up, "I know, Dora. You've told me what you'd do to another metamorphmagus since you were seven. It's only gotten more detailed the older you've become." Nymphadora looked properly embarrassed at that, but her mother continued, "That boy isn't even eleven yet. I cannot, in good conscious, let you 'snog him until he's nearly passed out and then shag his brains out'. I know you've had it rough at Hogwarts but I… no, he needs you to be a supporting role for this year. You remember what you went through and how you almost left Hogwarts? Imagine how the girls will take advantage of him, Dora, like the boys tried with you."

She rubbed the bridge of her nose, "And it's worse for him because, from the letter Dumbledore left, he was treated more like a house elf than a boy. Not like our elf, more like a Malfoy or Nott elf. I'm going to perform some medical scans on him once he's back down to see if he was abused. I can tell he's malnourished and that alone makes me want to go find who was taking care of them and strangle them with their own entrails." She looked up to Nymphadora, "He wasn't loved, Dora. His lards, from what Dumbledore wrote, of a cousin and uncle were overfed. By food Harry was forced to cook!"

Nymphadora looked absolutely stunned, her jaw hanging down to mid-chest in a cartoonish manner and her hair having gone pale, almost pastel yellow. She shook her head, pulling her jaw back up. Though her hair stayed the same. If Andromeda weren't so clearly upset, she would've smirked and shook her head at her daughter's antics, even if they weren't entirely on purpose.

Andromeda sighed, "From what Dumbledore wrote, I don't they they abused him. Not physically, at least. I'm still going to check and, if I find anything, anything at all, they won't find the bodies." She blinked, "Sorry, slipped into the Black family thoughts there. What I meant is… no molesting Harry. Let him experience a family and a childhood, alright?"

Nymphadora nodded, her hair changing from the Malfoy-esque style back to the wild bubblegum pink she much prefered. She looked towards the entrance to the room as she heard Harry come down the stairs. She waved to him as he entered the room. He was dressed in black pants like the ones he wore before his shower and another orange shirt. Instead of the pumpkin orange, it was closer to burnt orange. It wasn't as hard on the eyes and the color seemed to suit him well. Red might've been better, but the orange was perfectly fine.

She smiled, "Wotcher Harry. Feeling better?" As he looked to her, she noticed his hair changing colors. It wasn't like hers, where it changed color with her emotions or mental state, nor was it like how her mother described the unending changing nature of her hair and eyes when she was a newborn. Harry's hair turned a bubblegum pink like hers, though it retained its unruly style, even when wet. His face changed slightly, looking more like her own face but masculine. She couldn't help be stare. She hadn't believed it to be true. Metamorphs were extraordinarily rare, one being born after every four generations. And even then sometimes not. Britain hadn't had a metamorph since her ancestor, Aurora Black - named for her ever-changing hair - three hundred years ago.

Harry looked between the two women staring at him, his hair and face changing to match theirs, unbeknownst to him. He felt off put by the staring and shuffled slightly on the spot. He had nodded and they just stared.

Andromeda quickly came to her sense. Harry had been mistreated, so it was no wonder he looked uncomfortable.

She smiled to him and stood up, "Harry, do you mind if I take you to St. Mungo's? It's a hospital. I just want to get you checked over."

Harry looked uncomfortable, "I don't like hospitals." Dudley had broken his own arm somehow and, when they went to the hospital, Dudley blamed it on him. His relatives didn't care he was weeding the yard and was nowhere near Dudley, nor did the doctors and nurses. He was yelled at by doctors and nurses for doing 'such a thing' and later locked into the cupboard for a few days, only coming out to use the bathroom. It was that experience that made him dislike hospitals.

Andromeda frowned and walked over to Harry, crouching in front of him, "Harry. I promise nothing bad is going to happen to you. At worse, you'll have to drink a couple nasty potions so you don't come down with something like Dragon Pox or worse, Vanishing Sickness." She shuddered softly. She had a case herself, losing three of her toes and a finger before it was cured. The digits, since they were small enough, we grown back, but there were a number of patients in the same ward who had lost whole limbs. The treatment was helpful, but not that helpful.

Harry looked apprehensive, "Can… can you teach me some magic if I go?"

Andromeda smiled, "Of course I can, Harry. I can't teach you anything that they'll teach at Hogwarts… but I can teach you some household charms so you can tidy up your dorm. Can't have the house elves doing everything, can we? Poor Wobbles would be exhausted every time I work on potions." She blushed at that. While her potions came out perfectly, the workplace was never clean afterwards. It was the only reason she was never in Slughorn's gatherings.

She stood back up, her knees giving off a soft pop. She grumbled unintelligibly, slightly upset for some reason. She turns to look at Nymphadora, "You want to come with us?" It sounded more like a demand than a question. She smiled as Nymphadora nodded, "Good." She grabbed Harry, "You ready? I'll be apparating us just down the street." At his nod, she pulled out her want and turned her wrist, casting the magic that sucked them into… where ever it was. Twenty-two years of apparating and it still felt wrong. She gave a shudder as they landed while Harry fell and hacked, nearly spilling the contents of his stomach.

She crouched down and rubbed Harry's back, "It's alright Harry. It'll pass in a second."

A second pop alerted her to her daughter appearing. She turned to look at her and Nymphadora gave her a knowing nod.

Harry coughed one last time before wiping his mouth and standing up. The feeling of being sucked through a tube the size of his thumb was not a pleasant one. He still felt sick, but that was quickly passing.

He looked to Andromeda, who ruffled Harry's moist, once-again brown hair, "Don't worry Harry, you'll get used to it." He paled, going almost as white as a ghost. Even his hair turned a light shade of brown. Nymphadora… no, Dora laughed. He saw how angry she got when someone said her full name.

Nymphadora spoke up, "Don't worry Harry. It's worse the younger you are. I threw up on Mom plenty of times when I was younger." She smiled at him, "Besides, you won't learn until your sixth year at Hogwarts. The Ministry thinks we'd be too irresponsible until then anyway." She snickered, "Probably right. Charlie Weasley - one of my old friends from Hogwarts - probably would've apparated to Romania to study dragons up close and personal." She chuckles, "He's a bit obsessed with them. And that's putting it lightly."

They started moving, leaving the dank alley the appeared in and walked towards an old abandoned building. Andromeda smiled as she walked behind them. Dora was doing good, not trying to jump Harry's bones. She was also giving Harry a friend. One he desperately needed. She could tell Harry hadn't had a friend before, not with how socially awkward he was. She would have to talk to a mind healer, see if they could do anything to help. It wasn't likely, however, since it was something done without the use of magic. They might be able to help him open up, but it wouldn't be much.

Andromeda chuckled to herself. She had been a healer's apprentice when she had gotten pregnant with Dora and a few of the habits she had drilled into her still stuck with her. She had planned to go back to it when Dora started Hogwarts but things had changed and they didn't need her her service. She tried to keep up with the trade but it had become increasingly difficult. Healers, while they would help everyone learn the basic spells if they could, kept their better spells to themselves. Not because they wanted to horde them but because, if you miss something and use one of the spells, you could do more harm than help. And you had to have a NEWT in potions, which was becoming more and more difficult to obtain, if even a fraction of what Dora said was true.

Harry stopped as he noticed Dora and Andromeda stop. He kept walking, so he had to turn around and jog back to them. Dora snickered and walked in an abandoned building, Andromeda following right after. They waited for him at the entrance and walked him over to a corner of the store when he joined them. They stopped in front of an old-fashion mannequin and Andromeda spoke up, "Asclepius."[1]

Harry watched in awe as the mannequin caved in on itself, revealing a doorway to a hospital lobby. It wasn't magical, like Harry expected. In fact, it looked almost exactly like the last hospital he was in. After seeing Diagon Alley, he had expected something just as magical. He followed Andromeda up to the counter.

Andromeda smiled at the Welcome Witch, "Good morning Donna."

The Welcome Witch smiled back, "Oh! Good morning Andi. It's nice to see you again." She looked down at the multitude of papers before her, quickly rifling through them, "I don't suppose you're here to visit. Dora hasn't been in this year, thankfully." She looked back up to Andi, "How can I help you today?"

Andi looked back towards her daughter and charge before turning to face Donna, "I'm helping Hogwarts out this year and have taken up magical guardianship of a student. We just need a general check up and vaccinations."

Donna looked over to Dora, blushing slightly, "Oh.. sorry dear. I didn't see you there." She looked over to the auburn-haired boy next to her, smiled at him and looked back to Andi, "Sure thing." She taps a bell on her desk with her wand, "We're slow today and glad for it. Muggle-borns and muggle-raised are going to be swarming this place this weekend." She stopped speaking as a medi-witch in lime-green robes walked out. She looked to Andi, "Care to come for dinner with Ted tonight? It's been too long since we've gotten together."

Andi smiled, "Sure, I'll drag Ted along. Tonight at six?" At Donna's nod, she offered a small wave and started following the medi-witch, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder to make sure he walked along.

The group walked up to the second floor, to a mostly empty ward. They stopped at one of the back beds.

The medi-witch pointed at the bed, "Hop up." Harry did, "Name and reason for visiting."

Andi cleared her throat, gaining the medi-witch's attention, "I invoke Healer-Patient confidentiality. What is said here can not be said anywhere else." She looked to Harry then back to the witch, "This is Harry Potter."

The medi-witch gasped and looked to Harry's forehead, her eyes wondering to his scar. She looked back to Andi and nodded. Healer-Patient confidentiality was serious. It was copied off the oath muggle healers - doctors, they call themselves - took but edited for magicals. Even a minor breach without proper authorization could spell the loss of her magic. She shook her head, "No worries at all, Mister Potter. I'll keep your visit top secret. Now, how can I help you?"

Harry looked to Andi, who spoke up, "We're here for a general check-up and vaccinations muggle-born and muggle-raised need."

The medi-witch nodded and pulled out her wand, muttering and giving a quick wave over Harry's entire body. She muttered and waved her wand for nearly two minutes before stopping, "Hm. He's a bit malnourished, has a few fading bruises and his eyesight is appalling. He also shows signs of an active transfiguration but it appears to be non-malicious. We can get rid of the bruising and help his eyesight. The best cure for malnourishment is a few good meals over the course of the next few months. It shouldn't be a big deal since he'll be going to Hogwarts next months. I don't know what we can do about the active transfiguration…" She stopped as Andi held up her hand.

"Nothing needs to be done about it, "Andi said, "It's a rare gift that's passed down through the Black family. Harry, being loosely related, and his father had the possibility of having the gift. Think of it like a seer or an oracle. Their children might be, but it might skip a few generations."

The medi-witch nodded, "As long as it's not harmful, there's nothing that's needed to be done." She smiled, "I'll go get the potions for his eyesight and vaccinations and I'll heal his bruising before he takes them."

Harry watched the medi-witch leave the room before he asked his question, "Potions?"

Dora snorted and Andi slapped her arm lightly, "Yes, potions. We don't do the muggle way. What's the use of making an extra hole in the body to benefit you?"

Dora blushes, "Sorry. Forgot you were muggle-raised. Potions interact with our magic to produce better results than with muggles. The ingredients we use to make the potions are magical but they don't work as well on muggles because of their lack of magic. A standard Dreamless Sleep potion will last eight hours on a witch or wizard but it'll only last about four on a muggle. It changes from squib to squib… but most last about five hours? Something like that."

Harry looked confused, "So potions work better on us because of our magic, I got that… but what's a muggle and what's a squib?"

Dora facepalmed, dragging her hand down her face while making it longer.

Andi sighed, "We'll have to get you all caught up on terms before you get to Hogwarts." She shook her head, "Damn Dumbledore." She looked back at the entrance to the ward. The medi-witch still hadn't returned. Probably hinting at who she was helping and letting people jump to conclusions. It was one way of getting past the oath without losing their magic. If there was one thing medi-witches or wizard were, they were persistent in finding ways to gossip.

Andi turned back to Harry, "A muggle is a person without magic and a squib is person with too little or no magic born to a magical. Muggle-borns are a witch or wizard born from muggles, half-bloods are a witch or wizard born from a muggle-born and a pure-blood and pure-bloods are a witch or wizard with all of their grandparents and both parents being wizards or witches."

Andi stopped talking as the medi-witch returned with seven different potions, "Right, we just need a tear from Mr. Potter for the eyesight potion. That should be no problem if he drinks the other potions first." Andi and the medi-witch laughed at the joke. All of the potions were incredibly foul tasting and they hadn't had one person _not_ leak tears yet.

The medi-witch pulled out her wand, waving it over Harry, " _Episkey_." The unseen bruises faded, the healing feeling tickling slightly, making Harry squirm. She then took the potions off the cart, one by one and fed them to Harry.

Harry, expectedly, gagged on the foul concoctions. It was during the third one what tears leaked out of the corner of his eyes.

The medi-witch moved fast, grabbing the potion with an blinking eye on the label. She pressed it into Harry's cheek, watching the tear closely. After a good ten seconds, the tear slipped over the lip of the bottle and slid into the potion. She closed the bottle again and gave it a good shake, "Now we wait a couple minutes and let it mix properly." She set it back with the other potions and started force-feeding Harry the potions again.

Harry gagged softly as the last potion went down his throat and shuddered, "Those taste horrible!"

The three witches laughed at him and Dora spoke up, "Don't feel so bad Harry. Everyone has to take those. Just be glad you didn't throw it up like some people. Then you'd have to take some of them all over again."

The medi-witch grabbed the eye-potion, "That should be long enough. Take off your glasses and close your eyes." After Harry did, she fed him the potion, "Now keep your eyes closed for ten minutes. They need time to adjust and they're going to be very sensitive to light until the time's up." She patted Harry's shoulder, "I'll be back to get your signature, Mrs. Tonks."

As the medi-witch left, Harry's stomach growled harshly, breaking the silence and causing him to blush. Dora laughed hard and Andi chuckled.

One of the two, Harry couldn't tell which, ruffled his hair, "Don't worry Harry. We'll get Wobbles to make you a late lunch when we get home."

The trio talked for a few minutes, waiting for the potion to finish its work. They mainly talked about Hogwarts and what to expect. There was one important topic Dora brought up, "Harry. If you get sorted into Gryffindor, expect Professor Snape to deduct points from you for breathing too loudly. The man is a menace and favors Slytherin. He probably gives passing grades to his students even if they failed." This, of course, lead Harry to asking how students were sorted. The two witches looked to each other and smirked, "We can't say Harry. We might know but everyone agrees the way people are sorted should remain a mystery to new students."

The medi-witch returned and offered Andi a sheet of paper, stating what condition Harry was in, potions he had taken, their cost (which had already been covered by the Potter Trust Vault) and any possible future treatments that may need to be taken care of.

Andi signed it and looked to the medi-witch, "Any chance you can call down a mind-healer? I want to get Harry checked up on that."

The medi-witch nodded, "Sure thing." She looked to Harry and smiled, "It was nice to meet you, Mr. Potter."

Harry smiled back. He gave a questioning look in Andi's general direction, "What's a mind-healer?"

Andi gave him a pensive look in return, "Mmm… Best way I can explain them is that… they read your thoughts to look for any problems that might've been caused in your past." She reached to place a hand on Harry's shoulder, "They won't harm you in any way. They can't because of their Healer's Oath. They just make sure any issues that you might have are treatable."

Harry nodded and the trio went back to talking about general magic things. Harry got excited when he learned he could practice spells during the summer because they lived in a magical household and any magic cast would be thought of as the parents/guardians casting and not the student.

The mind-healer came after nearly fifteen minutes. He looked to Harry, who still had his eyes closed, then to Andi, "How long has it been since he took the eyesight potion?"

Andi looked to the healer, "Hm? Oh. About twenty minutes." She blushed, "Harry, you can open your eyes."

Harry did but had to blink rapidly at the sudden rush of light. He reached up to pull the glasses off his face, setting them in his lap and rubbing his eyes. He put his hands back in his lap and squinted hard, blinking a few more times. He opened his eyes to let them adjust to the light. He squinted a bit and blinked some, "Oh, wow. _Nothing_ is blurry." He smiled brightly, "Thank you."

Andi smiled and patted his shoulder again, "It's no problem Harry. Your parents paid for it, though." Her smiled faded, "Sorry… I probably shouldn't have brought them up."

Harry shook his head, "No, it's fine. Dumbledore told me what happened to them." He smiled sadly, "I know they loved me now."

Andi scrunched her face up and Dora's hair turned scarlet. Even the mind-healer appeared angry. Andi grumbled something foul and dark, thinking of many ways to show her Black heritage.

The mind-healer interrupted the foul thoughts by clearing his throat, "I suppose I should get started. Mr. Potter, please turn to face me and look me in the eyes." He pulled his wand out of his sleeve as Harry turned to him and pointed it at Harry, " _Legilimens._ "

* * *

If anyone can figure out the main reason I made Harry a metamorphmagus, put in a review and, if you're right, I will insert an OC with a name of your choice (as long as the name is reasonable and isn't a part of any canon family). No hints.

I can't exactly call Tonks 'Tonks' in her own household. She'll accept 'Dora' from her parents but prefers everyone else to call her 'Tonks'. Dumbledore calls her Nymphadora because that's his thing. No matter who, he calls them by their first name. I'll be calling her Tonks when they get into school.

I came up with Harry's slightly different metamorph abilities to match his upbringing. His magic wants him to be accepted by who's raising him, so it changes his appearance to make them look like their child. Tonks' is connected to emotion, Harry's is more of a defensive mechanism. While it wouldn't work on people now-a-days (us being cruel bastards that have learned to suppress our natural urges), it might've worked when we were still primitives and for a few thousand years before we became civilized beings. Of course, it's an instinct and, like all instinct (mostly for the worst) it can be squashed down. Tonks does when she has to, Harry will have to do it all the time.

Harry probably could've cured his eyesight himself, but he has never had perfect sight so he wouldn't know how to change it to so.

This chapter might be a bit boring but I thought it was necessary. I don't much like stories where Harry was violently abused (that doesn't mean they don't make a good story) so I don't planning on adding it to this story. The bruising, of course, is from Dudley and his gang.

[1] Asclepius is the Greek God of Medicine and son of Apollo. I thought it fitting and highly unlikely to be said in an abandoned building.


	5. Chapter 4

I own nothing relating to any series, including the Harry Potter franchise.

 **Harry Potter: The Metamorph Files**

 **Chapter 4**

The mind-healer interrupted the foul thoughts by clearing his throat, "I suppose I should get started. Mr. Potter, please turn to face me and look me in the eyes." He pulled his wand out of his sleeve as Harry turned to him and pointed it at Harry, " _Legilimens._ "

Andi and Nymphadora watched the tell-tale unconcentrated but rapid eye movement, waiting patiently to see if there were a pair of muggles that were going to have to go missing tonight.

Harry's experience was rather different. Of course, it was supposed to be. He was the one getting his mind read, after all. He heard the gentle voice of the mind-healer speaking to him, guiding him along memories. While they all, for lack of a better word, sucked, they lead him to the current best day in his life. Which was him learning magic was real, he could learn magic, he could already perform magic of a sort and his distant cousin… cousins took him in. Compared to what he was used to, what with sleeping in a small, cramped space, having to purposefully get lower marks than Dudley and having to do most of the chores in that house, this was luxury.

The healer spoke in his mind, "Please stay with me, Harry. I could force my way through but that'd hurt you and neither of us want that."

Harry nodded, going back to listening to the doctor. _Healer_. Magical terms were weird.

A few minutes passed while Harry and the mind-healer worked before he lowered his wand and reached to pinch the bridge of his nose, "Just give me a second. My head always throbs after I use that spell."

Nymphadora spoke first, though not saying what Andi expected, "If your head hurts after casting that, why become a mind-healer?" She hissed after Andi slapped her arm and gave her the standard 'mom glare', "I rescind my question."

The healer chuckled, "No, it's fine. I'm more skilled in mind charms than other types of spells. That and I have a muggle education in psychology. It not required for the job but it helps with finding hidden issues and with recommending treatments for them. Of course, I only have a lesser education so I don't know everything."

Andi spoke up first. She was a 'pureblood' witch and unbeknownst to her, at least for the moment, the only one in the room that did not have at least a partial muggle education. It was one of the few things Ted was adamant about, however, giving Nymphadora a standard muggle education until Hogwarts started. It also caused a bit of trouble, since she was a metamorph. They had to apply a glamor charm to her clothing so it didn't look like she changed her hair color whenever her emotions were in flux. There were occasions the glamor failed, albeit rarely, or a burst of accidental magic erased the charm but they only happened few and far between, "Why is a muggle education in… what you learned so important?"

The healer answered, happy for the distraction from his throbbing head, "Well, like I said, I can find problems that would otherwise go undiagnosed by other mind healers. Not for lack of trying, mind you. Magic can only teach you so much. Muggles have been able to discover a number of… handicaps that a person have. Not every person, however. Some people have absolutely nothing wrong with them, nothing diagnosable at least, but some people have these issues that affect their way of thinking. If they get severe enough, they can inhibit the person's normal life, making them unable to take care of themself. Sometimes the mental difficulties they have can manifest physical difficulties."

The healer cleared his throat, "Anyway… Harry wasn't abused physically. I admit there were times when he was starved, which caused his minor malnutrition, but it wasn't much more than skipping a day or two every other week, plus reduced portions while he was being punished. The punishments themselves seemed to happen after burst of accidental magic, strange incidents unrelated to Harry or when he got better grades than his cousin, which seemed to be a common occurrence. He _was_ injured by his cousin and cousin's friends a number of times but it was never serious. A black-eye here, some rib bruising there. Nothing we can do anything about. He's surprisingly sound for years of emotional neglect. The only recommendation I can really suggest it to treat him like family."

Dora scoffed, "Should be easy enough. He's already family. Loosely related, sure, but still family." She reached to ruffle Harry's brown hair, "Plus he'll have a teacher to help control his power… I think. His is a bit different than mine."

Harry could help but smile. They already treated him better than the Dursleys ever did. He just hoped that the last member of their family, Tonks' dad, treated him the same.

The mind healer wrote on a piece of parchment, "Take this to the check-out counter. If you tell them it's for Mr. Potter, they'll likely null the bill for you. If not, it's not going to cost you much."

Andi waved it off, "No, it's no big deal. I don't want to draw too much attention to Harry. As soon as I do, word'll get out that he was here and then reporters will be around and, knowing them, they'll get the information _somehow_ and make it some sort of publicity shit about how Harry was horribly abused by his muggle relatives, which we know isn't the entire truth. Better to have them think this is just another nobody. If we're lucky, they'll think Harry is Nymphadora's -" She ignored Dora's hair turning red and the mumbling noise she made, "- younger brother, with how his appearance changes."

The healer nodded, "Makes sense. A few of the people in the higher government positions, Minister Fudge for example, have come in with a couple minor problems, if what the rumors say are right, and the Daily Prophet said that he had a case of spattergroit centered on his… unmentionables."

Andi stifled a chuckle, Dora laughed and Harry looked confused. They wouldn't tell him what was so funny, either, just saying he'll understand when he was older.

After another few minutes chatting amiably with the healer, the trio left the hospital in a good mood. Andi because she didn't have to murder anyone today, Dora because she was enjoying her time and was rather pleased that there was another metamorph and Harry because he had a new family that was actually treating him as family.

Once they were back in the 'abandoned' building, Andi grabbed Harry's shoulder and they disappeared with a crack. Dora followed seconds later, once again ignoring the fact that she technically wasn't supposed to, as she hadn't taken the Apparition class offered at Hogwarts, and wouldn't be able to until Hogwarts started again. The fact that her mother was willing to cover for her was a nice bonus. She did teach her, after all.

Harry, unfortunately, still wasn't used to appariating and started dry heaving almost as soon as they arrived, just outside the Tonks household. Wobbles, having gotten used to this when Dora was training, immediately arrived with a small, empty trash can and placed it under Harry. With a quick, temporary enchantment, as house elves were only capable of, she made it so any fluids to come out of someone's face would be captured by the trash can. She couldn't narrow it down to a specific person but, as the household was sort of her domain, she could keep the spell confined within it.

Dora was kind enough to rub his back as he heaved, trying to comfort him.

Harry recovered astoundingly well this time, after throwing up the first few times he 'apparated'.

After thanking Dora and Wobbles, the group headed inside, Harry up to his room to enjoy _his_ room, Dora to her room to grab a few of her books from her previous years at Hogwarts and Andi to the den.

After letting Harry relax for a bit, Dora - she still prefered Tonks but it'd get confusing with her mother around and, soon, her father being around - went and knocked on his door before barging in, "Wotcher mate." She rolled her eyes, however, as she spotted his sleeping form and moved to flick his nose.

She laughed when Harry jumped, his hair literally standing on end from shock. Harry just rubbed his nose, giving Tonks a gentle glare, even as his hair started turning pink to match hers. She sighed, "Right. Before we teach you some magic and get you started with first year spells, we gotta get your metamorph abilities fixed to where you can… mostly control it at will. I still have trouble when my emotions change quickly. Red hair when I'm angry, white when startled and slash or scared, black if I'm… err, never mind that last one. I rather not explain it until you're a bit older."

She shook her head, "Back on topic. Imagine a version of how you remember you look. Now keep that image in your head. Got it?" Harry took a few minutes to get the image in his head and a few extra to keep it in there and, as he did, his appearance changed to match the image. It wasn't a perfect match. People tended to ignore finer details about appearances. Lines on their face, a faint scar, things like that tended to be ignored. Harry did fairly well for his first time but he did get his appearance wrong. His jaw was too feminine, his chin was a bit to narrow and his lips were nearly non-existent.

She smirked, "And that's how you change your appearance. It becomes easier with time. I mean, it took me twelves years to get it and that's with growing up with it. Now, to change some details, imagine yourself with something a little different. Make your hair green, make your nose bigger, anything. Try to stay within reason, however. You don't want to end up looking like too much of a fool. I learned how to not go crazy when I was little. Before I could remember, I think. To get your normal appearance back, just wipe the image from your mind."

Harry tried changing the image in his head, doing as he was told. Lime green hair and bright orange eyes . He didn't feel any different, even if Dora said he looked otherwise. Well, he felt a bit itchy. Like, really, really itchy. Specifically his nose. He sneezed, hurriedly raising the crook of his elbow to his mouth and fell backwards onto the bed.

After another round of snickers, Dora ruffled Harry's hair, "Good enough for now. Just practice that whenever you get the chance and you'll be a master metamorph in no time. Now come down to the kitchen with me and we'll get you started on year one wand movements. If you do good enough, we'll do some spells."

 **Three Hours Later**

A loud crack announced his arrival, as did the closing of the front door. He was home a couple hours early, but it was a slow month in his office. Which was a good thing. No so much for his paycheck but he was still making enough to get by more or less decently. The fact that his daughter, one Nymphadora Tonks, was on her last year at Hogwarts meant that they had one less mouth to feed during her two or so months with her around, and less tuition to pay.

He didn't mean to be rude about her, even if he was thinking to himself. He loved his daughter very much, but with her training to be an auror - it was mainly her trying to practice walking straight, getting her wand up and ready as fast as possible and ducking and covering - she was wrecking things as fast as Wobbles could repair them, including the actual walls of the house, most of the damage coming from her head when she fell. Or _to_ her head. He was glad she had a strangely high degree of sturdiness, despite her ability to alter her form at will.

Wounds, however, were another matter. Nymphadora used to pass out from just a small scratch. At first, he and his wife thought it was because it was the blood and she was hemophobic but as she got older and her pain tolerance grew, they discovered that that was not the case. Since she was so in tune with her body, every scratch felt like a mangled limb. Her pain tolerance was to the point now where she could break a limb before going out of commission.

He stopped in the front hall and sighed as he shrugged off his work coat, hanging it up with the rest of them. He took a quick step forward and looked at the mirror on the wall. He placed a hand on his stomach and frowned. He was getting a bit chubby. If he had his daughters ability, it'd be no problem. He didn't, however, and would either have to deal with becoming a bit more rotund or work it off. With his usually busy schedule, working it off would be a bit of a challenge, so he shrugged it off and went into the den to greet his wife with an 'I'm-home' kiss.

What he didn't expect to see, however, was a black-haired green-eyed boy sitting on the couch, reading _Hogwarts: A History_. He looked to his wife, who tilted her head towards the kitchen. Being a smart husband, and the fact that she wore the pants in the house, he moved to the kitchen and waited for her to join him.

His daughter Dora joined him before his wife, pecking his cheek in greeting before scampering to grab an apple and leaving the room. It left him slightly confused but he pushed it to the side as his wife came in. Knowing from experience, he kept his mouth shut and let her explain.

Andi walked into the kitchen with a soft smile on her face. She moved to her husband, leaned up and pecked him on his lips. He returned the greeting with a hug and a returning of the kiss. She smirked up at him, "As for who that is and why he is here, that is Harry Potter. Yes, _the_ Harry Potter. He is here because his relatives are terrible people and we're taking him in permanently… and he's a metamorph like Dora."

Ted, for all he was worth, was a bit slow on the uptake regarding on what his wife said. Right away he understood why they were letting him stay. Andi, due to how she was brought up, absolutely despised incompetent or abusive family or guardians. Her own upbringing was a combination of the two, incompetent and abusive family.

It was seconds after his wife had started smirking did his jaw drop, "A- a- amehmeh?"

Andi had to laugh at that. She knew why he had reacted like that and, had she not still had habits that was forced into her by her parents, she would've reacted like that when she learned of his abilities. She reached up to close her husbands jaw for him, "Yes, Ted, a metamorphmagus. It looks like his ability… differs slightly from Dora's, but Dora said he can change his appearance with the same method she uses."

When Ted opened his mouth, she closed it for him again, "Dumbledore has taken care of payments for food and, while he's at Hogwarts, storage. I asked for something else but apparently this was pre-arranged through Gringotts. His Hogwarts tuition was prepaid at his birth and Dumbledore, of all people, took him to get his school supplies."

When he tried again, she closed it once more, "We are going to dinner tonight with Donna, the Welcome-Witch from the hospital. You remember her, right? She was in my year at Hogwarts, in Hufflepuff. Dora can watch over Harry tonight and Wobbles is here to to fix any damage and to keep them from doing anything too stupid."

He didn't try to open his mouth again, knowing she likely had more to say. And he was right, "I already gave her the spiel about not, as she said, 'snogging him til he's just about passed out and then shagging his brains out'. Harry's not even twelve yet and she understands he's still too young for that. I suspect that, when he's fourteen or fifteen, she'll be kissing him like she wants. Sixteen or seventeen and, well, they'll probably officially start dating. I know Dora will try, at least."

She pecked his lips again and swatted his butt as she moved to go up the stairs, "Now go introduce yourself to Harry while I shower and get ready for dinner."

He just nodded and moved off back to the den. As he walked in, he saw Dora teaching him some minor jinxes and hexes, likely enough to make it seem he wasn't totally ignorant about magic and knew how to defend himself if he was attacked first. He spoke up for the first time since he made a fool of himself in the kitchen, "Don't forget to teach him the stinging hex. It should be a go-to spell to dissuade others from casting spells at him again."

He smiled down at Harry and pulled up his footstool. He took a seat on it and offered Harry his hand, "It's nice to meet you, Harry. I'm Ted Tonks, Dora's father." He shook Harry's hand, "Andi told me a bit about you in the five minutes I've been home and I would ask if what she said was true but I see that isn't required."

Harry reached up to try to pull his hair down over his eyes, seeing it having turned brown, "Oh. Sorry, sir. I didn't mean to. I'm still trying to get used to… everything really." His hair slowly turned back to black as he spoke but, as he looked between the two Tonks', his hair was hesitating, as of trying to decide whether or not to obey Harry or to obey its nature. Eventually it settled into its usual black coloring.

They talked a little more, mainly about Harry's school life. Ted pat Harry's shoulder, welcoming him to the household before he left the den and went up to his room to change.

Harry didn't really know what to think about Ted. Sure he seemed nice enough, but when he first saw Harry practicing spells, he recommended a spell to use and, from how Dora - he would use Tonks when her parents were around, because he could see how she didn't like her name - explained it, it was a nasty, painful spell. Not particularly harmful, but painful. He thought it might be useful to learn but he didn't want to be like Dudley, who'd use it on whoever was bothering him.

Dora seemed adamant about teaching it to him, so he did start learning the wand motions and the incantation but he didn't try to cast the spell itself.

Ten minutes after Ted had gone upstairs, he and his wife had come back down. Ted was dressed in something similar to his work-wear, only brown instead of gray. Andi was dressed in a business casual outfit. A normal light blue button down shirt, black slacks and a pair of black flats.

Andi walked up to Harry and sat on the unmoved footrest, "Sorry we couldn't stay, Harry. I had just blurted it out. If I don't go, I'll upset Donna and we've been friends for years. I promise that, this weekend, we'll have a nice big dinner and give you a warm welcome."

Harry nodded. While he wanted to get to know the people taking care of him, she made a promise and didn't want to disappoint a friend. Harry didn't really mind because, if he had friend, he'd do his best to keep his promises with them.

Andi reached up to ruffle Harry's hair, like everyone seemed to do, "Thanks for understanding, Harry, and sorry."

Harry and Dora waved them off as they entered the fireplace and floo'd away.

Harry stayed up for a while longer, reading a bit of the potions and year two spells. Wobbles came in an hour or so after the elder Tonks couple left and brought in dinner, dinner being club sandwiches. It was one of the best tasting meals he had ever had. He enjoyed it enough to eat two and a half on his own.

Four hours after the elder Tonkses left, making it roughly nine o'clock, Harry bid Dora good night and went off to his room, taking his books and wand with him.

He got into bed and tried casting the Lumos spell before he eventually fell asleep, wand in-hand and book to the side. While hectic, the past twenty four hours were some of the best Harry had ever had and he fell asleep, the Dursleys all but forgotten and his dreams as peaceful as ever.

* * *

I've read several descriptions of the Legilimens spell. Not once do I see anything about having to maintain eye contact. It might be in the book and it might be required for the start of the spell or the wandless spell but I don't see why the subject would have to maintain eye contact while they're -in- your head. So I did it my way.

I'm not saying house elves are the only one capable of performing that enchantment, I mean that they can only perform temporary enchantments and mainly ones for households chores and/or to help with the health and safety of their master(s).

I ended the chapter a little early and I apologize for it, but I couldn't do much more without a time skip. I'll try to make up for it in the next chapter.


End file.
